General Lakemp strode into his spacious office, stepped around a large wooden desk, and dropped into a cushioned chair. The lizard general briefly fingered the handle of his desk drawer, considering whether or not to withdraw its contents. He eventually decided against it and turned away to look out the window behind him.
The Lylatian reptile admired the great desert from his vantage point in a comfortable, air-conditioned room. A sheer cliff was only a short step away from the window, and beyond that, an impressive view of a wide canyon that stretched towards the horizon. The walls of the canyon were stained crimson, with occasional blotches of sandy-colored boulders dotting the landscape. Crevasses and caverns were worn into the rock, obviously from years of erosion, but such wear only served to give the scene a more... ancient... look to it.
The lizard relaxed in his chair and closed his eyes with a contented sigh. A general of the Venomian army during the Lylat Wars, Lakemp had been a witness to the brutality of war, and proof of such was shown in the long scars that marred his arms and face. Especially notable was the deep gash that ran vertically over his left eye, once earning the general the nickname "Scar."
Lakemp scowled and shook his head, clearing it of memories. It was the past, after all, and besides, he hated that nickname. The lizard general had more pertinent matters to worry over, including how to handle his latest prisoner. If Vemon were ever to rise to power again, the past must be eliminated... including past enemies.
With that very thought in mind, Lakemp whipped around in his chair and threw open his desk drawer. After brushing aside a few loose papers, the lizard discovered the button hidden at the bottom of the compartment. Pressing it allowed a compact viewscreen to reveal itself from beneath the desk, along with a keyboard. Lakemp took up the instrument and keyed in a quick command. He watched with a satisfied grin as Vemon's insignia flashed on the screen, vanished, and was replaced by a silhouette in a dark room.
The figure on the viewscreen spoke. "What's the purpose of this contact?"
Lakemp cleared his throat. "Kappa contacting. I wissh to sspeak with the Alpha."
A brief pause. The black blob on the display twitched as it answered. "Very well. Please wait a moment."
A moment was all Lakemp had to wait before the screen once again altered. Little changed in scenery, only a different person greeted Lakemp from the shadows.
"How is my bait?" voiced the obscured figure. It was a deep, powerful voice, purposely masked by mechanical aid.
Lakemp grinned sinisterly. "It iss asss you planned. We've already cleaned the trap, and the fishing is quite good this sseason."
The figure reached off-screen and flipped a switch unseen by Lakemp. "Enough of the metaphorical crap, Lakemp. I've secured this channel. Do you or do you not have StarFox? I've gotten a report that would suggest as much."
Lakemp blinked, but his slitted eyes retained their emotionless countenance. He had not expected the conversation to turn so frank so quickly. A side thought also wondered how such a report could have already found its way to headquarters. "...Yess. I've ssseen to the young McCloud's imprissonment perssonally."
"No others?"
"I've ssseen no otherss, though it was ssuggested that they were all exxterminated during last week's accident."
"Don't be so foolish as to presume your enemies dead, just because of some lackey’s hunch. You have not even begun a search for the remaining party members?"
A flinch nearly snagged the general again. "Well, not yet, but I asssure you that I was just about to--"
"You slithering fool!" the voice snapped. "Never, ever underestimate your opponents, especially in their time of weakness." The figure paused, about to change the subject. "...In any case, I trust you know now what to do. While you're waiting, keep the prisoners alive. I've already dispatched a... 'welcoming committee.' I'm sure they'll enjoy the company."
"I'm quite sure they will," Lakemp agreed. The lizard general didn't need to be told in so many words who was coming, and just what they planned to do.
It was, as the Cornerians so often put it, "payback time."
Miya had long ago abandoned Harot's secluded hut in the jungle. He made it quite clear that he didn't want to be harboring a wanted criminal whenever things got ugly. He wasn't worth much as a friend, she figured.
Now Miya truly had no place to go. She aimlessly wandered the undergrowth, producing any inane rambling she could use to distract her from the depressing predicament at hand. This turned into singing, somehow.
Her anti-musings were abruptly interrupted by a rustling of leaves. She crouched to the forest floor, taking cover under a flowering bush. Hopefully the red and pink blossoms would perfectly camouflage her exotic hues.
'Who's there...?' she was tempted to ask, but to speak out loud would have betrayed her position. She feared, however, that her idle singing might have already spoiled the effect.
Peering through the foliage, Miya caught the source of the rustling. A yoshi was advancing in her direction.
'Just one? By himself?'
Perhaps Harot had come looking for her. Maybe he'd want to apologize for throwing her out of his home.
'Don't count on it,' she doubted the notion.
...Or maybe it was a lone hunter, who would easily take an excursion from his dragon-stalking to capture a defenseless, highly priced pink yoshi.
Hoping for the former while suspecting the latter, Miya tried to remain inconspicuous as she guarded this yoshi's movements.
Getting a better look at the approaching dino, Miya observed that he was a male with yellow-toned skin. Most unusual, however, were the markings on his arms and across his back: dark brown stripes. Miya didn't know of any yoshi that bore discolorations of such distinction. Were they scars, perhaps?
Strangest of all, the absurd markings aside, was that he was AWFULLY familiar...
"Meekachu??" she choked out, too late. Miya slapped her hand over her mouth, yet not in time to prevent the other yoshi from detecting the sound of her voice. He whirled around, scanning the forest, his eyes propped wide.
"Miya??"
Miya's jaw practically dropped to the forest floor. "M-Meekachu!"
"Miya!" The yellow yoshi charged through the underbrush toward the source of the exclamation. Miya leapt from her hiding spot, startled into the open.
"Meekachu! Is that really you??"
He spotted the pink yoshi a moment later. "Miya! Thank the gods! I'm so glad I found you out here!" The yellow dinosaur blundered up to his pink companion, ecstatic to the point of clumsiness. "Are you okay? Did you get to complete your mission?" he breathlessly asked.
Miya nodded, still trying to drive the surprise of the visit out of her mind. "Meekachu, what are you doing here? How did you find me??"
"Pure chance!" He grinned like an idiot.
"What's that all over your arms?" Miya gestured at the stripes.
"Huh?" Meekachu looked himself over. "Ah, those. Nevermind. Com'on, we have to find a place to hide!"
"Hide?" she echoed. "Why?"
"No time to explain! Com'on!" Meekachu dragged the pink dinosaur by her arm down the nearest jungle trail.
'Is there EVER time?' she wondered, annoyed at the constant hastiness with which she had to do everything lately.
"Shh! Here one comes. Get ready!"
"Roger," Bill confirmed his eagerness in a whisper. The greyhound squeezed further under the cot pressed up against the bars of the prison cell. Fox stood on his knees atop the makeshift bed, leaning against the bars and scouring the hallway just outside.
Surely enough, an armed guard was marching down the hall, approaching the cell with slow, heavy steps. The tiger halted in his pacing just in front of the two caged prisoners. A bemused look fell over his whiskered face.
"What happened to the other guy in there? And what's this bed doing here?" he tapped the railing of the cot in front of him with the butt of his assault riffle.
A coy grin crossed Fox's muzzle. "Ya wanna know where he went, eh? I'll tell ya..." He motioned for the tiger to draw closer. The guard shook his head, not in a sporting mood.
"Just out with it, grease ball. Where's the dog?"
"Aw com'on, you scared of lil' ol' me? Come over here. I can't tell ya out loud." Then, in a softer voice, he continued, "THEY'RE listening..." Fox nervously shifted his eyes across the room for effect, then pointed to the ceiling of the cell, out of the tiger's viewing range.
The guard leaned closer to the barred door of the cell, craning his neck around to try and see from the fox's vantage. "What are you talking about??"
Fox pressed his snout through the bars, and whispered into the tiger's ear, "I'll show you."
From under the cot pushed up against the door, a set of paws shot out through the iron bars, latching onto the tiger's ankles and causing him to yelp and drop his firearm. It clattered to the floor. While the guard was still reeling, Fox stuck his arms through the door and snagged the tiger's uniform.
"Good night," he snarled, then yanked on the front of the tiger's shirt, banging his head onto the steel bars. Fox then released him, and the guard crumpled to the floor, out like a light.
"I loved that!" Fox yelped with glee.
"Good acting," Bill congratulated him from under the cot. "Quick, help me pull him closer. We need to find the key."
"Oh, right, sorry." Fox had nearly forgotten, in the thrill of the moment, that their mission was only part-way over. Reaching through the bars, the two animals pulled the unconscious guard into their reach, then searched his clothing for an item that could open their door.
"Got it!" Bill triumphantly exclaimed while snatching a ring of keys from the tiger's pocket. He jumped up, kicked the cot aside, and reached around the front of the barred door's lock. After some effort, a click was heard from within the lock, and the obstacle creaked open with a determined shove.
"Yes! That was a cake walk!" Fox confidently stated while stepping out into the open.
"Don't get your hopes up yet," Bill chided his comrade. He sidestepped the fallen tiger, armed himself with the discarded rifle, and then glanced down each end of the tiny cellblock, where two separate doors afforded options for escape. "Which way now?"
"Um..." Fox, relying solely on his fail-me-not intuition, picked a door at random. "That way."
Beyond the indicated path lied an intersection splitting to both the right and left. Again begging on luck, they ran into whichever hallway felt right and hoped for the best.
With this same reckless attitude they charged down the dim, narrow aisle, their visages blinking into and out of view every other second as they passed under the aisle of suspended lamps clinging to the ceiling. A myriad of utility pipes followed the walls of the passage, running their full length of at least a quarter of a mile into the abysmal darkness ahead.
The ceaseless walls gradually began to be punctuated with doors, most locked tight from the inside. As the escaping prisoners passed by more and more doors, every single one began to look more and more alike. Bill wailed, "We're lost!"
Fox screeched to a halt. "We ARE not!"
"Oh yeah? When you don't know where you are or you're going, that usually means you're lost!" the dog retorted.
Before the fox could snap back with an intelligent "shut up," he caught something from the corner of his vision. Spinning around, Fox noticed a room just beside him, the door left open by some chance. It was entirely devoid of people, but filled with computer terminals.
"Bingo. Com'on!" Fox gestured for his friend to follow him into the room.
Bill tentatively crept into the room. "Fox, what are we doing in here?" he near-whispered.
"Well obviously, where there's a computer, you'll find a map of this place! No point in aimlessly running around, waiting to get caught and thrown back in jail," Fox explained.
"Oh," Bill caught the idea. "Well, move aside and let me at it then, Fox. I'll find it faster than you."
Not doubting the canine's prowess with search engines, Fox yielded to his friend, who quickly crossed the room and bounced into a wheeled chair, the force of his haste throwing the seat into a spin. Bill set his feet on the floor as a brake, pivoted to face the keyboard, cracked his knuckles on the palms of his paws, and promptly got to work.
As his paws furiously ran over the console, the screen flashed with images.
"Map, map, map, floor plan..." he chanted while reviewing a list of files. "Some sucker didn't log off before leaving the room. I've got clear access to nearly everything here..."
"Sounds like we got lucky."
"Sounds a little too easy to me," Bill contradicted him, being pessimistic. "...There! Got it!"
"Really?" Fox leaned over Bill's shoulder to get a better look. A diagram of the base's floor plan scrolled into view.
Bill clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in awe. "Dang... This is a big place."
"No joke. Is THAT the exit?" Fox asked incredulously, while pointing to a dot on the map. It was, relatively, a long ways off from their position.
"Apparently. There's three guard stations on the way over there, too. This place is locked up like a safe."
"I guess we'll just have to crack the safe, then." Fox gazed at the screen for a moment, contemplating something...
"...But hold up a sec, first, Bill. Let me at that computer."
"Huh?" Bill glanced over at the fox, curious toward his intent. "Why?"
"Just let me do something real quick, okay? You can play lookout." Fox shoved him out of his chair. The dog staggered away from the fox, a bit put-off, then reluctantly accepted his friend's command and strolled to the door. "Alright, already. Just hurry it up, Fox."
"No problem," the fox reassured him, while typing up commands on the keyboard.
More screens blinked and flashed. After imputing a few key words, a box of text rolled past his vision. His hunch rested on the thought that maybe Venom had something to do with--
'Whoa, whoa, what's this??'
Some military logs were conjured before his eyes.
PROJECT 18-62B: UTOPIA
'Project Utopia?'
14/29/1287:
Unusual gravity wells confirmed at 10.7-52 on planet Titania. Investigation pending.
18/29/1287:
Gravity disruptions on planet surface proven dangerous. Two crews of scientists and five armored troopers missing after anomaly develops in Keroash Valley. Search continues. Investigation on hold.
19/29/1287:
Missing scientists and soldiers found. Seven survivors total. All claim to have discovered a world inhabited by "large, fast-talking lizards." Creatures are presumably hostile. Gen. Lakemp oversaw interrogations.
Col. Francis reports:
"The seven survivors maintain that shortly after the incident on 19-29, they were transported through an inter-stellar wormhole to a tropical world filled with monsters. They all insist they encountered a race of reptiles that were Lylatian-like, yet spoke in a foreign tongue and were very primitive, both culturally and technologically. This race allegedly attacked the survivors without just provocation, as did other native species, among them extremely large lizards that bore wings and breathed fire. After thorough examination, the seven were deemed mentally stable and returned to active duty."
Investigation of the gravity anomalies has been resumed, albeit with caution.
Fox's eyes were fixed wide open in shock.
"Large, fast-talking lizards"... Were they talking about the yoshies? They certainly fit the description. Had Lylatians before Fox actually discovered the yoshies' home world?
The date fitting that report was nearly twenty years ago...
Familiar words crept into his mind.
"...Not so long ago, our race was attacked again, but by a force from outside this realm. They were large green lizards that spoke and wore clothing just as you...do. They also carried great weapons that spat thunder and lighting... just as you...did."
Large green lizards that spoke, wore clothing, and carried weapons that spat thunder and lightning...
'Venomian-bred troopers?' Fox guessed. He could imagine how the yoshies interpreted laser rifles as "weapons that spat thunder and lightning."
"...The lizards... started war with us yoshies. Although our numbers were far greater, we were doomed from the start, and many villages were taken and burned to the ground..."
Meekachu's story was beginning to make sense. It correlated almost perfectly with the computer's log, given room for some exaggeration on both sides.
Venomians first discovered the planet of the yoshies. Frightened from being stranded on a strange world, their reaction to a race of creatures that spoke gibberish and looked like monsters was hastily made and biased. The yoshies took the reaction poorly, and they attacked the Venomians, assuming they were a threat to their kind.
Defending themselves, the Venomians fought back... But the yoshies, armed with only spears and sticks, were no match for the guns and advanced technology that the Venomians possessed. The casualties were heavy.
"...The lizards were lured to the M'hakashan caves...There, the ancient yoshian magic was brought against them, and our enemies were wiped from the face of this world, brought back from whence they came."
That was where the sense of the story was lost on Fox. What Meekachu was referring to, exactly, he couldn't grasp, but what apparently happened was that the Venomians found some way back to Titania. How? Maybe the same way Fox got back, himself?
Anxious to read more, Fox scrolled down the list of dates, continuing his research.
01/07/1304:
Disturbances in the Keroash Valley becoming more frequent. Discussions in progress with Gen. Lakemp concerning re-location of planetary base.
01/22/1304:
Base encounter with Cornerian-allied patrol squadron. Defense system dispatched. All potential threats exterminated. One prisoner--Commander William Grey of Katina Air Force. No other survivors. Exact potential of captive in discussion.
'Bill...'
02/04/1304:
Cornerian-allied mercenary unit StarFox hailed by Gen. Lakemp's anonymous agent. Prisoner Grey offered for ransom.
02/05/1304:
StarFox encountered and ambushed. Battle interrupted by unanticipated gravity surge. Several pilots lost in the disaster.
StarFox missing.
02/10/1304:
One StarFox pilot recovered--F. McCloud. Found within base's interior. Means of entry under suspect. McCloud imprisoned in cellblock with prisoner Grey, for lack of available space.
Other StarFox pilots still at large.
Fox sagged deeper into the chair, his eyes glazed over in deep thought. "Those sons of..." he murmured.
He couldn't believe it. He had been tricked--no, his whole team had been tricked--into coming to Titania just so they could be captured. Bill was just bait for the Cornerians the whole time.
And Fox had fallen for the trap.
The last line of script then caught his attention.
...Venomian-allied mercenary unit StarWolf hailed. En route to base by request of Emperor to interrogate captives personally.
Fox swore rather loudly.
Bill whirled at the sound of the abrupt curse. "What is it?"
Fox pulled himself out of the chair, his eyes still glued to the computer screen, and waved Bill over. "Quick, come read this!"
The hound, detecting the urgency in Fox's voice, bounded over to the terminal and skimmed over the written log. "What? What am I looking at?" he impatiently asked.
Fox reflexively pointed a claw at the bottom line of text. Upon reading it, Bill's eyes sank into his skull in horror. "StarWolf?! Coming here!?" he unraveled the meaning of it almost instantly.
Then, the rest of the message caught up with Bill. "Emperor?!" he blurted out. He exchanged a bewildered glance with Fox. "But... but... I thought he's... I thought he was..."
An obscure debate ensued.
"He is!"
"According to this, he's not!"
"But that's not possible!"
"Apparently it is!"
"Look, it's not Andross!" Fox preferred not to believe it. "It can't be Andross! He's dead!"
"Then what's going on, here?!"
The fox shook his head, resigned to the lack of answers. "I haven't the slightest. ...But unless we're part of some really sick joke, we'd better get out of here, and fast."
Bill dumbly nodded, still unable to cope with the reality of their danger. He finally snapped out of it and nodded at Fox once more. "Right. We've gotta move out. We can keep going along this hallway right up until the first guard station. The map said that after that, all that's left is a few more short halls, two more stations, and then the hangar."
"Just one?" The swarm of fighters that besieged his team could hardly be contained in just one building...
Bill reached over the keyboard and recalled the map with a few cursory strokes. "The others look like they're still under construction," he informed, pointing to the skeletons of buildings on an obscure part of the diagram.
Fox dismissed the logic error. He didn't have time to crunch numbers. "Sounds like a good enough plan to me. Let's go. Who knows when Wolf and his croonies will get here." He started for the door, ready to set their escape into motion again. A thought hit him as soon as he reached the doorframe, and he hesitated. Bill watched a look of worry capture his features. "Shoot... They could already be here."
Bill grimaced. "Isn't that a lovely thought?" he sarcastically remarked as he abandoned the terminals and started out the door.
Fox, following Bill's lead, dismissed the ominous idea with a grunt, and turned back into the poorly-lit halls of the Venomian facility.